


Grasping

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 20:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asha grasps not quite at straws in an effort to keep Euron from the Seastone Chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grasping

Her uncle Victarion wanted her. She had seen the interest in his eyes when he misinterpreted her proposal to rule together as an offer of marriage and she'd glanced down in time to see his cock stir in his breeches. It was not unheard of for uncles and nieces to wed, but Asha certainly had no desire to marry her nuncle. He had killed his last wife for something that might not even have been her fault, knowing the Crow's Eye as Asha did.

Bedding him was another matter. Asha liked the thought of that. His hair was more grey than black now, but Victarion Greyjoy was still muscled better than most men half his age and taller too. Asha did so love having powerful male bodies beneath her. She smiled as she entertained the thought that maybe greenlanders rode those prized horses of theirs for the same reason.

The guards at his tent let her pass unchallenged. She'd have to tell him to speak with them about that. Just because she was his niece didn't mean she might not seek to kill him. Blood meant less than it used to; Euron had proven that when he'd had his brother, her father, killed.

Victarion was sprawled on his back on his camp bed, snoring loudly. He wasn't under the covers and he was fully dressed, making her suspect he'd passed out drunk. Asha patted his shoulder.

"Nuncle."

He awoke quicker than she'd expected, his hand reaching for the axe on the floor beside him.

"It's not me who means to murder you in your bed, nuncle."

"Asha. Has anything happened?"

"Not yet. You cannot mean to submit to Euron's rule."

"The captains cried his name loudest. He is the king now, Asha."

Asha swung her leg over him, straddling him, raised up on her knees so there would be no contact between their bodies yet. "He killed my father, uncle. He made you kill your wife. We deserve our vengeance."

"He is the chosen king," Victarion repeated stubbornly. "It is the Ironborn way."

"If we joined our men, we could overcome Euron and his mongrels." She lowered herself atop him, only their clothing separating her cunt from his cock.

He grabbed her arm and she thought he meant to throw her off him, but he only shook his head. "Do not make trouble, Asha."

Asha threw back her head and laughed. "Me make trouble, uncle? You know me better than that." She ground herself against him, feeling him grow hard beneath her. "I only want to see the Crow's Eye punished for his crimes and prevented from committing new ones." She splayed her hands on his broad chest. "Help me, nuncle, please."

He said nothing; did nothing. But that was enough. He hadn't sent her away; he was tempted.

"If you'll not have me as your Hand, I'll be your wife." She moved the hand he'd laid on her arm to her breasts. "I'll be by your side day and night." She rocked against him faster. "Together we'll make the Iron Isles strong again."

Her own desire was increasing. She wondered if his cock was as big as the rest of him. She began to unlace his breeches. "Please, uncle."

He grasped her around her waist and plucked her off him. "No, Asha."

She studied him, deciding whether she could sway him or whether he was resolved. He had made up his mind to follow Euron. She sighed in regret. She liked Victarion and she'd preferred to have him with her. But she would do as she must to claim her father's throne.

"Very well, uncle." She slid her hand between her thighs, stroking herself through the cloth of her breeches, and smiled at the way he watched her. "I'll not disturb your sleep any longer."

Asha Greyjoy turned and strode from her uncle's tent. She had plans to make, but first she needed the services of a good, hard man.


End file.
